The death march away from what you regard as the most important things in your life begins with a subtle shift of emotional meaning from the self to the environment.
For instance, the value of an emotional response to a fire in the room is not about the fire; it's about leaving the room (or putting out the fire). When resentment develops for having to leave the room, it obscures the value of leaving the room. It makes us think, "Someone should be punished (or sued) for the damages I suffered by having to leave the room!" Instead of valuing skills and resourcefulness, the self is devalued as "damaged." Fantasies of revenge, spite, and moral superiority become more important than growth, health, and well being.
We've all done it. We've devalued ourselves as "damaged, harmed, abused, etc." to justify anger at someone else. But it's an adrenalin rush that comes at enormous cost: It traps us in a permanent devalued state that greatly impairs the ability to create value in life.
Likewise, "She knows how to push my buttons," is one of the most self-destructive statements in the language, one that just about all my clients aver at the beginning of treatment. I always ask them, "Where are your emotions? Are they in you or in the room? So where do they have to be regulated?"
The "buttons" my clients dread getting pushed are actually corrective alarms, signaling their own violation of what is most important to and about them. In the case of the complaining husband, the alarm tells him to be more compassionate to his wife, provided he is still attached to her.
The function of emotional pain is not to "punish" past behavior but to motivate present action that heals, corrects, and improves. Painful emotions have built-in, self-correcting and self-healing mechanisms. If allowed to run their course for a few minutes, they tend to motivate behavior in accordance with your deeper values. If you let yourself feel shame about hurting your child's feelings, you will try to reestablish emotional connection with her. But if you cannot tolerate the shame or think it "unfair" that you have to, you'll likely blame your behavior on the child:
"She never listens."
"You don't know him, he can be a real devil."
"Serves her right. It'll teach her respect!"
How can we possibly do well in life when we devalue the people we most value? Doing so ignites a war within, although it manifests as a power struggle with loved ones. And, of course, it almost never gets you a positive response. If you feel that you're going down the long and sad road of resentful conflict with your children, ask yourself, who is more likely to cooperate and respect the rights and feelings of others, the valued child or the devalued child?
Apart from our most vulnerable children, we have very little control over other people and situations, which is why our emotions are rarely about them. Unless there is palpable threat in the environment, emotions are not about manipulating other people or situations; their primary motivational message is to create more value and, as much as possible, protect the value we create.
CompassionPower
